Her lips curved in the faintest smile. “Good. Because I kind of like being strong with you here.”
That one hit me right in the ribs.
“Sleep,” I murmured.
And she did.
I sat there in the quiet, listening to the rhythm of her breathing, the soft hum of the rain outside, the house feeling like a home again.
The smell of her shampoo mixed with the faint scent of my old T-shirt, familiar and new all at once.
I shifted slightly onto my side, not touching her fully, but close enough that if she moved, she’d find me.
Close enough that she wasn’t alone, and neither was I.
I stared at her for a long moment, her face soft in sleep, her guard down in a way I knew she rarely allowed. I’d been avoiding this since the moment she stepped into our lives.
I didn’t just want to thank her.
I wanted her to stay.
Not for three weeks.
Not just for Harper.
Forme.
And lying there in the stillness of the room, close enough to feel her without holding her—
I realized I was already in deeper than I planned to be.
And I didn’t want out.
Chapter 23
Dani
The smell of coffee drifting in from the hallway was what woke me first.
Then came the clinking of dishes and the unmistakable whispering of Harper tryingvery hardto be quiet.
“Daddy, shhh! You’ll wake her up!”
“I’m not the one talking,” Logan whispered back.
“You’re breathing loud.”
“I can’t stop breathing.”
“Try.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. I shifted slightly in bed, a reflexive wince pulling at my muscles, as the lingering ache flared briefly. While the heaviness of the night before had lifted thanks to the heating pad and some much-needed rest, traces of pain still whispered through my limbs, reminding me of their presence.
When I opened my eyes, sunlight was spilling through the curtains, casting a warm, soft golden wash over the room. The air held the cozy scent of toast and cinnamon, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. Somewhere down the hall, Harper’s giggles rang out, bright and full of life, echoing throughout the house.
And then I heard a gentle knock on my door.
“Come in,” I said, voice still rough with sleep.
